


Uneven Odds

by TheFirstDayOfSpring



Series: One Million Bullets [2]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Family, Fluff, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 08:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12453363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFirstDayOfSpring/pseuds/TheFirstDayOfSpring
Summary: A special number changes Root and Shaw's new life drastically aka this is the family au. It was gonna be in the oneshot series but babies aren't everyone's thing. Warning: it's very soft.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a oneshot but I split it into four chapters because it turned out so long. 
> 
> Warning for implications of child neglect. It's gonna be okay though.

The machine sends out a very special number to Root and Shaw, a little over two years after they defeated Samaritan. They have settled into their new lives, with a new house and their old job, in a new building, with new coworkers and employees. Root’s new office, shiny and modern 60 floors above the streets of Manhattan, Shaw’s own gym three floors below her, with a dozen new recruits to train in between missions, and their two dogs to come home to every night. They still work the numbers, but with a little less secrecy and a little more help. It’s a better life either of them ever expected to end up with.

 

There’s a sense of normalcy in heading to that building every morning with a proper job to do without having to fear for their lives every time they walk out the door. It look a while for them to loosen up and relax into the routine, but once they found a rhythm, it actually proved to be _fun_ , in a weird, domestic sort of way.

 

Their home life has turned into something that used to be a foreign concept to both of them. Shaw would have called it gross, Root her biggest nightmare, but now that they’re living it, it’s… pretty good. They have their nice, co-owned town house in upper west side, decent-looking expensive furniture, and their dogs to keep the place warm and cozy. It’s not exactly like something’s missing.

 

But the machine sends them a number on a bright morning in May, in the form of an address, and stresses the importance that Root and Shaw have to investigate this one together, as soon as possible.

 

Shaw doesn’t think anything is different than usual, despite the strange format of the number, but it’s not the first time the machine has switched up the way she presents her new numbers to them. Root, however, seems a little annoyed with her, prompting her to tell her more while they’re on their way over to the neglected apartment block in west Queens, but the machine doesn’t seem to budge. No information until they get there, just how Shaw prefers it. She doesn’t complain when the machine makes sure everybody is well prepared before they start their missions, but nothing beats some good old fashioned recon.

 

The building the machine has led them to is old and dusty. Layers of paint crumbling off the walls and half of the floor tiles are cracked, along with the windows in the stairwells. Shaw wouldn’t have minded living there years ago, but now that she’s used to a cleaner, safer and warmer environment, she doesn’t wanna spend much more time here than necessary. She heads up first, checking the stairwell for possible threats, but there’s no one there. She tells Root to follow, but doesn’t move her hand off the gun in her waistband.

 

It’s noisy in the halls, loud music erupts from behind apartment doors, covering up sounds of people laughing, screaming and doing other things Shaw would rather not visualize in this moment. The apartment they’re headed to is the last on the left of the fifth floor. Shaw stands left of the door, Root on the right.

 

“Do we knock?” Shaw asks.

 

Root looks down in annoyance, waiting for the machine to give her an answer. Shaw looks around, noticing there are no cameras in the hall.

 

“No. Door’s open.”

 

Shaw looks at the knob. Duh. She would have seen the lock was broken off if she’d bothered to look. Damn know-it-all machine is weakening her observatory instincts.

 

She finally takes her gun out and holds it by her side when she carefully pushes the door open.

 

“Anybody home?” she asks, raising her voice slightly.

 

No answer.

 

“She says there is,” Root says from behind Shaw, pulling out her gun too.

 

Shaw moves into the dark, stale room. The curtains are closed and the lights are off. Her eyes have to adjust, but she can tell there’s no one in the living room. There’s some pieces of basic furniture and not much else in the decorative aspect, but it looks quite normal to Shaw. She rounds a corner to the kitchen, where for some reason the tap is running softly, and broken glass is on the floor, next to…

 

“Well if this is him, I’d say we’re too late.”

 

Root shuffles into the kitchen too and Shaw points out the body on the floor. It’s a young man from what she can tell, and there’s a dried up pool of blood by his head.

 

“And not by a little, either.” Shaw scrunches her nose. “Smells like the poor sucker’s been here at least a day or two.”

 

“Ugh,” Root groans, covering her nose with her jacket sleeve. “She says not to stop looking. I’ll take the doors to the left, you take the right.”

 

Shaw nods, and pulls out of the kitchen, making for the little hallway with her gun still pointed forward. She doesn’t know what they’re looking for, exactly. It doesn’t look like anyone has been here since the guy died, and if there were more people here, chances are high they’re not very lively anymore either.

 

It’s not really a surprise when she opens the door to a bedroom and finds a woman on the floor with a similar wound to the head.

 

“Another body here,” she calls out to let Root know.

 

“Nothing here,” Root replies. They meet back in the hallway and move on to the next doors.

 

Shaw finds the bathroom, with ugly green tiles, but relatively clean, and no dead bodies in sight. She does spot a pair of tiny socks on the pile of laundry in the corner, and an open pack of diapers under the sink, before Root calls out again.

 

“Shaw… In here.”

 

Shaw puts her gun back in her waistband before joining Root in the last room. Root is standing with her gun hanging by her side, staring motionlessly at the crib under the window.

 

In there, a half-naked baby with curly black hair stares back at her with wide eyes. But it doesn’t make a sound, and it doesn’t move, either. It smells even worse in here than it did in the kitchen and the bedroom, this time unmistakably of feces.

 

“Shit,” Shaw says. She moves over to the crib to have a closer look and make sure the baby is alive. It makes a little hiccup sound when Shaw reaches for it. It blinks up at Shaw and frowns, the big brown eyes tearing up slightly. “Uh, hi.”

 

She wriggles a hand under the baby’s back and rolls her onto her side to establish what she had already suspected, revealing a full diaper and finally getting a real reaction out of the baby’s throat. It squeals weakly.

 

“Across the hall,” Shaw orders Root, like this is business as usual. “Get a bath running.”

 

Root hesitates for a second, but turns around quickly and Shaw hears the tap turning on seconds later as she turns back to the kid. She lifts it out of the crib carefully. There’s an urge to clutch it to her chest, hold it tightly, but she resists it, what with the smell of shit still clouding the air around them and all. She keeps the baby at a safe distance while she carries it into the bathroom.

 

Root is sitting on the edge of the tub, testing the water from the showerhead with her hand.

 

“Uh, can you take the diaper off?” Shaw asks, holding the baby out in front of Root.

 

“I-” Root stares at the item in question and scrunches her nose.

 

“Fine, can you hold it while I take the diaper off?” She tries not to shake the baby with her impatient arms. Root stands up and puts her hands over Shaw’s under the baby’s armpits. Shaw fiddles with the diaper and eventually manages to get it off without making too much more of a mess, and dumps it in the little garbage bin in the corner.

 

“Well, it’s a girl,” Shaw says without much joy in her tone. She catches Root pout a little at the announcement. She doesn’t make any other type of movement to get the baby into the tub, so Shaw takes her from Root’s hands again and lowers her to the stream of the showerhead to rinse her off.

 

It takes a minute, but Root jumps back into action when Shaw looks at the last of the poop on the baby’s back questioningly, and hands her a hopefully clean washcloth from a cabinet. The baby whines softly when Shaw rubs her clean gently, holding her up between her arm and her shoulder. There’s soft red blotches on the skin that was most dirty, and judging from the lazy kicking of tiny legs, it hurts being touched there.

 

“She needs food,” Shaw states, thinking ahead. “Uh, formula? I don’t know. They should have something in the kitchen, I guess.” Authority leaks into her voice, and Root seems to catch on, because she nods, looks nervously at the baby one more time and then leaves the bathroom.

 

Shaw dries the baby off quickly, but she doesn’t feel much for setting her down somewhere naked, underfed, and exhausted, so she carries her back into the nursery to at least find her some clothes. She doesn’t find much better than a boring white shirt and a pair of tiny leggings and decides it’s gonna have to do for now. A microwave dings right when the baby is all clean and dressed.

 

Root returns with a little bottle, and Shaw holds the kid up while Root holds the bottle in place at her mouth. She drinks eagerly, immediately seeming to regain energy.

 

“How old do you think she is?” Root asks, finally relaxing a little bit. Shaw can only guess why she seemed so upset earlier, but she seems to be getting her mind back to the matter at hand.

 

“A couple of months? Year, maybe?” Shaw guesses. She treated some kids during her residency, but she’s no expert on babies. The kid gulps down a particularly big sip with a yelping sound and starts to cough. Shaw gently pats her back until she calms down enough to continue drinking. “Machine know anything?”

 

“Nothing. She’s not in any data bases. She’s guessing the parents were illegal, scared to get deported if they registered her.”

 

“Might have something to do with their current status,” Shaw says quietly, nodding back into the rest of the apartment.

 

“She doesn’t know. She had a hunch from the feeds of the traffic cam across the street and wanted us to check it out.”

 

“We should look around for something just in case. Something with a name or date of birth on it.”

 

Root nods. Then she looks down at the baby and, for the first time, smiles.

 

“She’s cute,” she says, with a soft grin.

 

Shaw looks up at her in surprise.

 

“What?” Root says defensively. “That’s the point of babies, right? Otherwise who cares?”

 

Shaw huffs a laugh. She’s probably right.

 

They get up when the baby’s stomach is full enough for her to start rejecting the bottle and reaching her little hands out for Root’s hair instead. Shaw searches the nursery, while Root heads back into the bedroom to check the nightstands for a diary or something. There’s no name on any of the kid’s few belongings, no record of her on the bookshelf in the hall, no passports or licenses in the living room drawers. Root doesn’t come out with anything of use either. She searches the man’s body in the kitchen while Shaw holds the baby out of view. He only has a couple of dollars in his pocket.

 

“Let’s just get her out of here,” Shaw suggests. “We’ll call Fusco and Dani to clean up this mess.”

 

“Where do we take her?” Root asks, looking at Shaw holding the baby to her chest with an expression Shaw doesn’t really know what to make of.

 

“The hospital, for starters. Kid hasn’t cried since we got here, that can’t be good.”

 

Shaw gets Root to hold the baby in the passenger’s seat while Shaw drives. The machine figures out a way to forge some sort of document for the kid, gives Root a brand new identity as a child protective services caseworker, and enrolls Shaw as a foster parent, leaving them with a plausible excuse to be walking around the city with an orphaned baby in their arms.

 

Root’s new title gives her clearance to many things, and they get helped by a doctor a few minutes after they check into the ER. The baby gets examined by a nice doctor, who handles her gently and simply accepts that they don’t know most of the answers to her questions. During the whole examination, the kid only stops staring at Root and Shaw to blink. She doesn’t cry until Shaw points out the irritated spots on her back and the doctor touches them.

 

Root is the first one to put a comforting hand on the girl’s head. Shaw looks up at Root and grins to tease her for getting caught caring. The kid however, starts to struggle against the doctor’s touches and reaches her little hands out to them. Shaw rolls her eyes at herself for caving first, and picking her up from the table.

 

The doctor prescribes an ointment to soothe the pain. She explains that judging by the kid’s length, development and teeth, she estimates her to be around 8 months old. Her reflexes seem alright, and despite the lack of crying she appears to be properly aware of her surroundings. She can’t say much about any possible psychological issues at this age, but suggests it’s probably best for her to stay in a stable household for now.

 

Shaw knows Root wants to ask if they shouldn’t just hand her over to actual child protective services. She kind of wants to ask the same thing, but there’s something about the way the baby is clutching at her shirt as they walk back to the car that stops her. She’s not sure if the machine is giving Root more direct advice or if Root is letting Shaw take charge of this situation, but she doesn’t object when Shaw notes they’re gonna have to take her home now.

 

“I’ll drive,” Root says, her eyes gliding over the baby’s hold of Shaw.

 

Neither of them has much to say on the drive. The baby softly coos into Shaw’s neck as she falls asleep. She doesn’t wake up when they stop at a supermarket to buy more diapers and formula. They probably need to buy some more stuff if they’re really gonna keep the kid around for longer than today, but they can figure that out later. She just needs to sleep somewhere warm and comfortable now.

 

Bear and Rose come to the door as soon as they get in, wagging their tails with interest for the new guest. Shaw would be all for proper introductions if the kid wasn’t asleep so peacefully, so it’s gonna have to wait. They head upstairs and put the baby down on their bed, which should be big enough to prevent her from falling out. And despite having access to what’s essentially the most advanced baby monitor in the world, neither of them feels tempted to leave the room after the little girl has curled up in the middle of their sheets. The bed suddenly seems too big and empty with just her in it.

 

Suddenly, Root bursts into a quiet laugh. “When I woke up this morning I didn’t think we would have a baby by noon.”

 

“It’s just for a little while,” Shaw says. “Just following doctor’s orders. We’ll find her a better place.”

 

“Yeah,” Root says. “Still, though. Not how I thought I was gonna spend the day.”

 

Shaw huffs a laugh too. Then they stand side by side, looking down at the infant on their bed. It feels strange, to have this bundle of responsibility lying in their private space, but her face is so small and peaceful that it seems right, in a way Shaw never thought she would feel. She expected it to feel like a bigger deal than it does.

 

“She doesn’t have a name,” Root says quietly, breaking Shaw’s train of thought. “She needs a name.”

 

Shaw nods. One glance at Root’s face is enough to know she has a lot of feelings about the matter. There’s something sad in her tone and her eyes look… sad. In the sympathetic way, Shaw presumes.

 

“We’ll think of something to call her,” Shaw says. The thought of giving the kid a name to carry for the rest of her life suddenly seems a little drastic, like it’s not their place. And it’s not like she really doesn’t have a name, they just don’t know what it is.

 

“She doesn’t have anything,” Root states. “We need to buy her things.”

 

“Yeah,” Shaw agrees. “We can order some stuff, right?”

 

Root nods, but she doesn’t move. Shaw hums in a tone implies she’ll be right back, and heads to the study across the hall from the bedroom. She takes one of Root’s laptops and brings it back to the bedroom, where she sits down on the bed and waits for Root to join her. She opens the laptop and isn’t all too surprised when the machine starts pulling up websites to baby stores and pages with things they’re gonna need for sure. Like a crib and some simple looking clothes.

 

Shaw leaves Root in charge of picking things, only objecting when her horrifying styling choices are going absolutely too far. Root refuses to add a simple travel crib to the cart and picks a decent wooden crib instead. They can’t decide on cute onesies, so they pick seven of them, along with five more leggings and shirts with animal patterns. They’re a little clueless in the toy department, but neither of them hesitates for a second when they find a stuffed animal in the shape of a shepherd dog. It’s probably supposed to resemble a German, but it looks enough like Bear to make it into the shopping cart. They add a rattle and a couple more soft toys before placing the order.

 

Shaw looks over her shoulder at the baby, and Root follows her gaze.

 

“It’ll be okay,” Shaw says, not sure if she’s telling the baby or Root.

 

Root leans in then, and kisses Shaw for the first time since they left the house this morning. It’s not much more than that, their hands still leaning on the bed. But it’s soft and warm, and all the tension that Shaw hadn’t even noticed was riling up in her fades away. Shaw didn’t think she needed a reassurance, but that’s what the kiss gives her anyway.

 

They break apart when Fusco calls them on the commlink to tell them the case is being taken care of. All they told him was that child protective services had come to pick up a kid and found the bodies there. He doesn’t have to know child protective services is them, and that the kid in question is currently asleep on their bed. The story didn’t even make that much sense, but they left it up to him to figure out what to tell his coworkers.

 

They sit on the bed for another hour, softly discussing names. Root likes more posh and old fashioned names like Olivia and Violet, but at the same time is conflicted about the origins of them. She feels like they should respect the girl’s own origins and give her a Spanish name. Shaw doesn’t care too much as long as it sounds cool and not like a grandma’s name. They don’t settle on anything before the kid wakes up and starts crying. She stops almost as soon as she sees Root and Shaw sitting near her.

 

When she’s properly awake, they take her back downstairs. Maybe letting two above medium sized dogs meet her on her first day away from home isn’t in her best interest, but the dogs can be calm on command, and they don’t really have a choice. They all share the house for now.

 

Bear is the first one to be brave and approach the newcomer, who’s safely wrapped in Shaw’s arms and dangling her legs above the ground at knee height. He sniffs her face and refrains from licking her. The baby’s eyes are wide, but she doesn’t seem to be scared. In fact, she’s reaching her hands to his snout. Root is watching the scene closely, but neither the dog nor the kid give any reason to intervene.

 

Rose follows, with a little more trouble to contain her enthusiasm. Root holds her back by her collar a little bit to keep her from jumping or licking, or doing anything else that would scare the kid, but the wild movements of the dog’s tail only make her laugh. She gets a hand on the dog’s ear and squeezes it, and luckily Rose doesn’t really seem to be upset with it.

 

“They’re doing better than I expected,” Root says, with a smile I her voice.

 

“They’re good dogs,” Shaw says with a proud grin.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was gonna be a chapter explaining more about their new company with the machine but I think this pretty much speaks for itself

A week passes before they find a name that suits the child. In the meantime, the machine tracks everything she can find about the parents, to find any possible family members, but nothing comes up with the information they have. Shaw goes with Fusco to question the neighbors while Root stays home to watch the kid, but none of the people that open up know anything about the people they used to live next to, not even that they had a baby. The landlord is hard to track down, but when they find him, he doesn’t let them know anything of use either.

 

On the third day, Root tells Zoe about their new houseguest. They have lunch together a block away from the office to discuss a business move Zoe swears will help them make a bigger name for themselves. Root hadn’t wanted to branch out originally, but Zoe made a pretty sweet offer and Root was willing to hear her out on the matter. It didn’t take Zoe long to notice Root was distracted, and not in her usual way. Root carefully explains a number is currently residing at her and Shaw’s place and it’s not a big deal, but Zoe manages to pull the rest of the information out of her. It’s not like Root didn’t want to talk about it anyway.

 

The kid has woken up crying every night they left her in her own crib in the study, and stopped as soon as Shaw or Root picked her up and sat with her for a little while. She does better when she falls asleep in one of their arms, but they try not to let her get used to that. Other than this, she’s not giving them too hard of a time, and she’s okay with pretty much anything they put her up with. Her stuffed German shepherd soon proves to be her favorite toy and she seems content whenever she holds it.

 

Root comes home from a stakeout mission late at night, a week after they took her home. She hangs her coat up and leaves her keys on the side table by the door. She dumps her shoes under it and makes for the living room, surprised to see the lights and the tv are still on. She opens the glass doors quietly, and Bear’s head pops up from the couch lazily. Rose stays asleep entirely. So much for a proper guard dog.

 

Next to Bear is Shaw, slouched down into the cushions, asleep with the baby draped over her chest. There’s two empty beer bottles on the coffee table and the tv is tuned into some sports channel, running a recap of a football match. Root can’t help but stand there and just look at the scene in front of her. Her favorite woman in her most comfortable state, with the baby they’ve been getting used to together curled up warmly on top of her, surrounded by their two big dogs. A rush runs through Root, her blood warming every inch of her.

 

She takes the beer bottles and brings them to the kitchen, turns off the television and steps towards Shaw, who still doesn’t stir. Root leans down and kisses her forehead. She hesitates for a second, but then leans down farther and kisses the baby’s head too.

 

The girl opens her eyes and makes a startled little sound, but she calms down when she sees Root, blinking up at her. She yawns, showing off her four little teeth, and wriggles herself back into Shaw.

 

“Time for bed, little one,” Root whispers. She lifts the baby off Shaw’s chest carefully. She makes a little sound to protest, but hums contently when Root presses her against her own chest.

 

Shaw groans and wakes up too, looking around in confusion until she sees Root. She mumbles something indecipherable and gets up from the couch. She tiptoes to reach Root’s mouth for a lazy kiss.

 

“How was the mission?” Shaw mumbles when their lips part.

 

“Pretty boring, to be honest. You didn’t have to wait up.”

 

“I didn’t mean to. She started crying after I put her to bed so I took her down to watch the game with me. I guess we both fell asleep again.” She wipes a strand of hair out of her face while she yawns, and stands with her hands on her hips, looking at Root and the baby.

 

“That’s cute,” Root says, stifling a yawn herself. The baby coos softly into her neck as she pats her on the back.

 

“Zara,” Shaw says, suddenly.

 

“Whomst?”

 

“Her. If you like it, too.”

 

“Zara…” Root repeats the name a couple of times, looking down at the baby’s curly head.

 

“It’s Arabic, but it’s not uncommon in Hispanic countries. It’s got that fancy sound you like, but it’s kinda badass too. I think she’ll pull it off.”

 

Root nods slowly. It does sound good. It’s cute and chic, but still cool and spontaneous. “I like it.”

 

“Good,” Shaw says, pursing her lips into a tired, dopey smile.

 

“Hi Zara,” Root tests it, in her extra sweet voice that is reserved solely for dogs and this baby. The child looks up at her with her big brown eyes and shows something that could resemble a smile, if Root hadn’t just woken her up. “That’s you now.” She smiles and kisses her head again.

 

 

 

Zara sleeps through the night for the first time that night, with the help of her new pacifier, which they forgot to buy with the first load of baby stuff. Root chooses to take it as a sign that she likes her new name, and when she feeds her a fruit cup in the morning, she feels a lot better about the whole situation too.

 

Shaw is training the new recruits until the afternoon and when she comes home it’s Root’s turn to go play boss at the office, but not before they squeeze in a heavy make out session on the kitchen counter while Zara is asleep.

 

Zoe is bringing their first potential client to Root’s office, whose offer Root turns down, much to Zoe’s annoyance, and after she’s briefing two of her agents about the new number she watched on the stakeout yesterday. It’s a pretty quiet day, especially with Shaw not being around to distract her from time to time, and she finds she’s relieved to go home.

 

Another week passes, and Zara’s things start showing up in all kinds of places throughout the house, marking her territory with toys and clothes. They start taking her to work when Root gets called in for an emergency meeting, and Shaw is still training her minions. No one at the office is surprised, really, it’s not the strangest thing Root has ever brought in. The second time Shaw takes her in, though, people start turning heads, though no one has the audacity to ask either of them about it.

 

The first wave of irritation with the child hits Root when her and Shaw take a night to themselves after they’ve put her to bed. They start making out on the couch and it turns into a bit of a wrestling match when Shaw decides it’s her turn to take control. Just when Root sets her teeth into Shaw’s neck, Shaw knees her in the side and it makes her fall over, off the couch.

 

They stumble upstairs, trying not to make too much noise. As soon as the bedroom door closes behind them, they’re pulling each other’s clothes off so fast Root doesn’t even know who’s naked first. She pushes Shaw over to the bed and pins her down by her shoulders, with a knee between her legs. Shaw groans happily and pulls Root down by her neck, catching her mouth with her own as she flips her onto her back. Root makes a little noise of objection, but it’s been a while since they had a moment like this, and the feeling of Shaw’s warm body pressed against her is enough. She drapes her arm across the back of Shaw’s shoulders and reaches her other hand to Shaw’s ass. She squeezes, and Shaw moans into her mouth, her own hand wandering over Root’s side and wriggling between them to touch Root.

 

And that’s when the baby starts to cry. Shaw hears it before Root does, but the machine fills her in a second after Shaw stops moving.

 

“Can we just ignore her?” Root asks.

 

“No,” Shaw sighs. She leans her head down in Root’s neck.

 

“She’ll fall back asleep if we wait long enough.”

 

“Last time she cried and no one responded she was left to starve in her crib until we came along,” Shaw pointed out. “Besides, that sound is the biggest turn off ever.” She rolls off Root, but groans in protest and doesn’t get off the bed.

 

“I’ll go,” Root says, suddenly feeling guilty for suggesting to leave her alone. She picks up one of Shaw’s tank tops that’s closest to her and pulls it over her head. She finds a pair of sweats on her way to the door and pulls them on in a hurry, despite the hormonal parts of her brain crying at her not to.

 

“Hey little girl,” Root singsongs when she enters the study. Zara is sitting up straight in her crib, her little hands clasped around the vertical bars. Her face is the saddest thing Root has ever seen, and she’s crying in short, breathy sobs. “Oh, come here.”

 

She lifts the baby up and holds her against her chest. She rocks her up and down softly, patting her hand up and down the back of her animal print onesie. Though Zara wraps her little fingers around the collar of the tank top and calms down a little bit, she doesn’t stop crying. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

 

Root hears Shaw enter the room behind her. She looks over her shoulder at Shaw, feeling that her eyes are giving away her slight panic. Zara doesn’t usually stay upset this long and Root doesn’t know if that’s because this was a particularly bad night for her, or because Shaw is usually the one to pick her up first. But Shaw just walks past her and leans over the crib, picks up the pacifier, and holds it in front of Zara’s face. She leans in to take it in her mouth, like it was always meant to be there, and stops crying. She makes a couple more labored sounds and sighs before resting her head on Root’s shoulder, and reaching her little arms around Root’s neck.

 

“Oh,” Root says. “Makes sense.”

 

Zara sighs a couple more times before she’s breathing and cooing normally again. When she’s calm, Root tries putting her down again, but it results in more crying, and even after they wait behind the door for a couple of minutes, she doesn’t stop.

 

“Let’s just take her to bed with us,” Shaw says, rolling her eyes as she walks back into the room.

 

They fall asleep with the baby between them, each with an arm draped over her tummy.

 

 

 

A week later, the machine warns Root that Shaw is on her way up to her office with Zara. A wave of worry washes over her, because Shaw wasn’t supposed to come in until noon, and she didn’t call. Root knows Shaw would know to go to the hospital if something was wrong, instead of Root’s office. But they recently hired a doctor to stitch up all the bullet wounds and grazes their agents came back from missions with, so she can’t shake the feeling that something might have happened.

 

“Are they okay?” Root asks.

 

The machine plays a soothing tone into her ear to let her know nothing is wrong. And Root doesn’t have much more time to worry before the door opens and Shaw walks through, with Zara on one arm and a tray of coffee and donuts on the other.

 

“Hi, take one,” Shaw says, standing awkwardly in front of her without any free arms.

 

Root opts for the coffee tray, so she can lean in and give both of them a kiss on the cheek.

 

“Did you come here just to bring me coffee?” Root asks, not complaining in any way. She puts the tray down on her desk and checks under the lid of each cup. One is black, the other has a white foam layer on top. She smiles and takes the black one, taking a sip and humming in satisfaction.

 

“The coffee is just an excuse. We came here to show off Zara’s new skills.”

 

“Ooh, do show,” Root says.

 

Shaw lowers the child to the ground, and her legs stretch out. She starts moving them before her feet even touch the ground. She did that before, but what’s new is that she’s actually making an attempt to walk this time. Shaw takes the baby’s hands in her own and then everybody is waiting with anticipation. Zara stands swaying her weight from one leg to the other, hanging onto Shaw’s hands, but she doesn’t move her feet.

 

“Come on, kid, you did it so well before,” Shaw spurs her on. Zara looks up at Root with her tongue sticking out, and then she looks back at her own feet. She makes a whiny sound before kicking one of her feet forwards.

 

“There we go,” Root says, watching the girl’s feet closely. She puts her foot back down and lifts up the other. Shaw steps forward, careful not to jar her too much, but she catches up, and they walk a full circle around the carpet. “Good job, little girl,” Root laughs and applauds them. She reaches her hands out to the child. “Come here.”

 

Shaw transfers the tiny hands into Root’s, and Zara is off before Root is even ready. There’s something about the pulling at her fingers and the happy squeal the baby makes as they walk around in little circles that makes Root feel warm inside.

 

“Aren’t they supposed to start crawling first?” Root asks, looking up at Shaw. “She can barely even stand up on her own.”

 

Shaw pouts and shrugs. “Apparently it’s not a crucial part of the process.”

 

“A small step for Zara,” Root jokes, guiding her back to the couch. She sits down, leaned forward so Zara can still bounce around on her wonky feet.

 

Shaw gets the coffee tray from the desk and sets it on the back rest of the couch as she sits down.

 

“It’s probably gonna take a while before she can do it on her own,” Shaw says. “But it’s good practice.”

 

“And it’s adorable,” Root adds. She realizes she’s never used that word in serious context before. Maybe she’s thought it about Shaw at multiple occasions, but she wouldn’t have said it out loud. She’s never really thought of babies that way, but Zara is different. Her little face is much cuter than any she has ever seen. It’s honestly no wonder she’s so soft for her. She lets her bounce for a little while longer, holding her upright under her armpits, and then lifts her into her lap so she can drink her coffee. The baby doesn’t protest and immediately finds a button on Root’s shirt to inspect.

 

“There’s a job next week,” Root says, lowering her voice to a tone that means business. “I was gonna put Frankie on it alone, but the machine thinks she might disregard her instructions and try to go rogue again. She’s more comfortable if one of us joins her while she’s out of the city.”

 

“Where?” Shaw asks, taking a donut from the box.

 

“Boston.”

 

“How long?”

 

“Just a couple of days. Four at most.” She sees Shaw’s eyes glide down to Zara. “She reassures everyone will come back in one piece. That is, if everything goes according to her plan.”

 

“You’re asking who’s going and who’s staying home with the kid?”

 

Root shoots Shaw an apologizing smile. She wasn’t asking so much as hoping Shaw would figure it out on her own, so at least there’s the illusion of choice for Shaw. Shaw and Frankie have become pretty good friends, and they’ve work together on many other missions. Nothing has ever gone horribly wrong, but it’s hard to deny that the two have a lot in common, especially their obvious preference of doing things their own way, when a certain AI tells them to do another. They make a good team in good old fashioned beat-up-the-perp jobs, but they don’t have the balance the machine needs for this particular mission.

 

“She thinks it’s best if I go.”

 

Shaw nods, pursing her lips at Zara, who’s putting Root’s shirt buttons up for a taste test. “I think we can handle that.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Root says, scrunching up her face in sincerity.

 

“No, it’s fine. Someone’s gonna have to play boss with you gone, I can take her with me. We’ll be okay. I’m more worried about you coming back like Swiss cheese. Then we’re gonna have a problem.”

 

“No worries. The odds of either of us catching a bullet are fairly low.”

 

“Hmm, I’ll have a word with Frankie before you guys leave.” Shaw smiles in an almost creepy way, but Root knows she isn’t gonna threaten Frankie’s life over this. She likes her too much to scare her off.

 

“Whatever you need,” Root says, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek to show her gratitude. Shaw rolls her eyes and pretends to be annoyed with the gesture, which only makes Root smile harder.

 

“You’re covered in baby drool,” Shaw points out in an attempt to win whatever this old banter is.

 

“I’ve been covered in worse,” Root says with a smirk.

 

“Okay, that’s my cue to get to work.” Shaw gets up from the couch and stuffs the last part of her donut in her mouth. “You owe me takeout tonight.”

 

“Owe you for what?”

 

“Just you. In general.” She turns around when she’s at the door. “I want Indian. Extra spicy.”

 

“Sure thing, ma’am.” Root grins after her even when the door has shut. Zara groans and reaches her hands out towards the place she last saw Shaw. Root quickly manages to distract her by letting her take a bite from her donut, and just like that, regains her position as Zara’s favorite.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Bye bye, Zara,” Root says, nuzzling her nose into Zara’s neck the next Monday morning. “I’ll see you on Thursday.” The baby groans and whines, pushing off at Root’s shoulders.

 

“She’s not really into goodbyes, it seems,” Shaw says. In Zara’s defense, it’s way earlier in the morning than she usually awakes. She’s rubbing her eyes and kicking her feet from under Root’s arm, showing off her new monster face socks.

 

“Well, who can blame her,” Root remarks. She puts the kid back in the crib, where she squeals and grabs onto her stuffed Bear, putting one of its paws in her mouth.

 

Shaw hadn’t really seen the point of waking her up to let Root say goodbye before she left. She has no idea what’s going on anyway. But maybe that was Root’s point, somehow. She has a way of dealing with the kid as if she understands the gestures she makes. Like it makes a difference whether she tells her goodnight before bed, and brings the same toy with her everywhere she goes. Sometimes Shaw catches her chatting to Zara about stuff like encryption algorithms, not even in her baby voice, just to share the information. It’s not like the kid understands, but some things are more for Root than for her.

 

They go downstairs together, where the dogs patiently await them with their tails wagging slowly. Shaw stands in the doorway to the living room while Root puts on her jacket.

 

“You wanna eat something before you go?”

 

“I’ll get something at the airport,” Root says, getting her suitcase from under the coat rack. “I’ll tell Frankie you said hi.”

 

Shaw said hi to Frankie herself when they went for a beer last Saturday, but whatever. Root takes any chance to remind people that her and Shaw are a Thing.

 

Root leans down to scratch both dogs on the head and tells them to be good while she’s away.

 

“Try not to die,” Shaw says flatly.

 

“I promise that won’t happen again, sweetie.”

 

Shaw rolls her eyes. She steps in and slips her hand under Root’s jacket, pulling her in by the small of her back. She puts her mouth on Root’s before she can say more stupid things. She purposely heats the kiss up a bit by sliding one hand to Root’s ass and the other to the back of her neck to pull her closer and bite her lip.

 

“Hmm,” Root hums, pulling away. “Don’t turn me on a second before I have to leave.”

 

“Oops,” Shaw says, without any hint of sympathy in her voice. “You better get going then.”

 

 

 

The first day goes by in a heartbeat. Shaw takes Zara up to the office in her car seat and she sleeps through the morning, while Shaw looks out over the city through the huge windows behind the desk, drinks coffee and helps the machine plan two missions in the city this week in exchange for updates on Root’s status. Which is fine, since nothing really interesting is going down in Boston yet.

 

In the afternoon, Zara lies on a blanket on the carpet with a bunch of her toys while Shaw makes some calls to the machine’s agents in other cities, to see if they need anything they can help with. The machine keeps track of such things on the regular, but studies show that people work better when an actual human boss shows interest in their wellbeing. It’s definitely not Shaw’s thing though, and Harper is happy to tease her about it from a safe distance in Washington.

 

Shaw takes Zara down to the gym to find Anna. Shaw doesn’t know much about her, except that she’s the best MMA fighter they have in the company. They hired her a year ago to help out the hacker agents on more dangerous missions, and though Shaw has only had the chance to work with her once, she’s proven to be a valuable asset, despite her narrow knowledge of computer and spy stuff. When she’s done looking Shaw and the baby up and down suspiciously, Shaw asks her if she would mind taking over her recruit classes for this week. She looks sort of dubious about her teaching abilities, but Shaw assures her people skills aren’t that much of a necessity during a fight training.

 

When they get home, Zara is a bit uneasy, but she’s used to either Root or Shaw coming home later than the other, so she’s still okay until it’s time for bed. She keeps crying a couple of seconds after Shaw leaves the room, stops when she comes back in and then cries when she leaves again.

 

Shaw groans and decides to ignore it after the fifth time. The kid stops crying after a full fifteen minutes, and then she doesn’t make another sound until three am. Shaw takes her back to bed with her, because it was cold in there anyway, and Zara peacefully lies curled up against her chest for the rest of the night.

 

 

 

“That’s still going on?” Zoe says, when she comes by the office the next day to help out with the boring stuff Root usually takes on. She nods at the baby in the car seat on top of the desk as she takes off her coat.

 

“Uh, yeah,” Shaw says, not making eye contact while she busies herself with the computer in front of her. She can take a guess at what Zoe is thinking, and it’s not really a conversation she wants to have with her right now.

 

“It’s been what, like a month now?”

 

“Just about. I got some files here I want you to look at.”

 

“Alright.” Zoe walks around the desk, ignoring Zara and moving behind Shaw, leaning on the back of her chair to look at the computer screen. “So we’re not gonna talk about the fact that you guys have a child now? Like a real human baby?”

 

“We don’t _have_ her,” Shaw grumbles, pulling up the files that need the eye of a person more familiar with the justice system than her. “We’re just… babysitting.”

 

“Are you sure about that?”

 

“Didn’t you say we weren’t gonna talk about it?”

 

“Fine,” Zoe says, close enough to Shaw’s ear that it makes her wince from discomfort. “That letter’s a fake. Judges don’t send out court orders, especially not that one. Lucky for you, I know the guy personally. I can make a call to figure out who forged this.”

 

“Thanks,” Shaw says. “There’s more.” She pulls up the rest of the files she couldn’t make sense of before. Zoe helps her figure out the connections to the numbers the machine has given them. Overall, it’s a productive afternoon, until Zara gets bored of being good and quiet in her car seat and starts to whine.

 

“Shh, come here, kiddo.” Shaw takes her out of the seat and gets up, taking her to the other side of the desk to let her stretch her legs for a little. Zoe takes her spot in the chair and folds her arms over the desk, alternating glances from the computer screen to Shaw and the baby. Shaw knows that she would probably love to give her opinion on this, but she keeps it to herself, much to Shaw’s relief. Her and Root have been avoiding the conversation that needs to happen, but she doesn’t want to have it with somebody else first.

 

Zoe makes her calls while Shaw types up an email for an equipment order and Zara plays with her dragon transformer on the carpet. Shaw glances over at the kid from time to time, and catches herself grinning at the attempts of conversation that are going on between her and the plastic dragon. It’s mostly squeals and hums, and lots of drool on her chin, and Shaw rolls her eyes at herself for finding it cute instead of gross. She can’t really pinpoint the exact moment she turned this weak for the kid.

 

 

 

That night, when Zara wakes up crying at thee am, Shaw reaches out to Root’s side to find it empty, and it takes her a minute to remember why she’s not there. She groans and rolls out of bed on her own, crossing the hall to the study to console the source of the noise that woke her up.

 

However, the baby isn’t really up for being cradled in Shaw’s arms. She pushes at her chest with her little arms and kicks her legs around, like the morning Root kissed her goodbye, except now she’s screaming and making a sad face instead of a grumpy one. Shaw changes her diaper, tries rocking her softly up and down, talking to her in the most soothing voice she can manage in this state of frustration, and tickling her to make her laugh, but nothing is breaking through the kid’s tantrum.

 

“Any tips, Mrs Robot?” She pulls out her phone, which is more of a struggle than it would be if she weren’t holding a flailing child in her arms. A text appears on the screen.

 

_She appears to be in more distress than usual._

“Yeah, no shit.”

 

_I’m sorry. As this is an odd occurrence in her routine, I have not yet learned a way to solve it. I’m afraid this requires a skill I cannot possibly attain, as I am not a human being._

Shaw swallows as she thinks of what that means. “Instinct.”

 

_Yes._

 

Zara manages to spin herself around in Shaw’s grip. She squeezes Shaw’s arm with her sharp nails as she cries. Shaw vaguely remembers her own tantrums as a child. When she felt restless, or frustrated, she would flail around like this sometimes when her parents go too close. She must have been at least four or five when she started doing that. God, her parents must have hated her in those moments, she thinks as she peels Zara’s little fingers off her arm. 

 

Although, her parents always managed to calm her down after a while. She remembers they would hold her, even though that was the last thing she wanted in that moment. They held her as tight as they could until she stopped kicking her feet and swinging her arms around. It wasn’t exactly pleasant, for either party involved she imagines, but it didn’t hurt her, and she always calmed down in the end.

 

She sits down in the desk chair and presses the kid back into her chest, ignoring her attempts to wield her off, but careful not to bend her fragile limbs the wrong way. She holds her tightly and waits. She stops struggling against Shaw’s grip soon enough, but she keeps crying loudly for a while longer. But she has to give up eventually. And she does, after what feels like half an hour, halting her cries with little throaty sobs. She breathes in quick pants, but she’s getting calmer with every sob, and eventually yawns with a weak little sigh.

 

Shaw sighs too, loosening her grip slightly to pick up her phone from the desk.

 

_Do you want to call Root?_

 

The message came in ten minutes ago, but Shaw assumes the offer still stands.

 

“No. No need to wake her up.”

 

_OK._

Then the realization dawns in on her, that the only difference between tonight and any other night for the past month, is that Root isn’t there with them. It seems unrealistic to Shaw that it would make the kid so upset. Not that she doesn’t sort of miss Root herself too, but isn’t Zara a little too young to grasp the concept of missing somebody? Shaw wonders if that’s just one of the things she can’t understand because those types of feelings never came that organically to her. Maybe tomorrow, if it happens again, she should call Root.

 

It doesn’t happen again, because when Shaw tells Root about it in the morning, Root insists on facetiming Zara before bed time. Shaw is skeptical about the plan, until she gets Zara into her tiger onesie that evening and sets her in her lap to make the call.

 

She can see Zara’s face light up in the corner of the screen when Root answers. Zara squeals in reply to Root’s greeting and reaches her little hands out for the phone. She doesn’t really interact with Root the way she would in person, paying more attention to a button on a pocket of Shaw’s pants, but apparently seeing Root’s face and hearing her voice in the background is enough to keep her satisfied. For now.

 

She wakes up again at three am, but she’s a lot calmer than last night and when Shaw is giving her her fruit cup in the morning, they’re both in a better mood than yesterday morning. They have one more day to spend in Root’s office together and Shaw knows she’s starting to get bored there, so she brings a whole bag of toys to keep the kid from whining too much while she works, and takes enough breaks to sit and walk around with her.

 

Shaw waits with putting Zara to bed until Root gets home, assuming it’ll be appreciated on both ends. Zara’s asleep on Shaw’s chest when the front door opens. Bear and Rose jump off the couch to see if what they smell is true. Root deals with the ambush of two happy dogs when she comes through the glass doors, and Shaw slowly gets up from the couch.

 

“Hi,” she says, smiling at Root.

 

“Home sweet home,” Root says, smiling more. Zara has stirred awake from all the fuss, and she tiredly rubs her eyes when Shaw tiptoes to kiss Root.

 

“Hey little one,” Root coos, leaning down to kiss the baby on the head. She’s finally awake enough to look around and see what’s happening, and as soon as her eyes fall on Root, she gasps and stretches her legs out enthusiastically. She squeals, and reaches her little arms out to Root, who looks slightly puzzled at this reaction, but takes her over from Shaw regardless.

 

Zara’s arms are just long enough to reach around Root’s neck, and she holds onto her tightly. She basically crawls into Root, happily babbling nonsense while she rests her head on Root’s shoulder.

 

“Wow, I don’t think you’re allowed to leave again,” Shaw says.

 

“Oh, baby did you miss me that much?” Root says, patting Zara’s back. Shaw notices she has tears in her eyes. She doesn’t really know what to do with that info, but judging by the circumstances, they’re probably happy tears.

 

“She really did,” Shaw says.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Root coos, kissing the top of the girl’s head again. Her squealing and babbling dies down slowly, until she’s just humming contently while Root softly rocks her up and down.

 

Root has real tears rolling down her cheeks now, and even though Shaw knows it’s probably just overwhelming emotions, she can’t help but feel a little worried. She steps in and wipes Root’s cheeks with her thumbs.

 

“Was Boston okay?” she asks carefully. Root smiles and nuzzles her cheek into the palm of Shaw’s hand.

 

“It was good. Everything went according to plan. No one got hurt.” She lets go of Zara with one arm to wipe the rest of her cheeks clean. “Well. No one on our side, at least. Maybe Frankie’s knuckles.”

 

“She can take it,” Shaw says with a smile.

 

She pours Root a glass of wine and opens herself a beer, setting them both on the counter. They sit on the stools while they drink and get each other caught up on the past four days. Zara has fallen asleep tied around Root’s neck, and Root hasn’t made an attempt to put her down. Shaw finds she’s relieved Root made it back home safe, even though she hardly doubted she wouldn’t.

 

“You know she’s sleeping in her own bed tonight, right?” Shaw says when they’ve finished their drinks. It’s cool that she’s not the only one in the house who’s happy that Root’s back, but they need to have some one on one time, fast.

 

“Of course,” Root says. She covers one of Zara’s ears before she continues. “I have big plans for you.”

 

“My six favorite words.” Shaw smirks. It’s been way too long.

 

 

 

A couple nights later, Shaw wakes up alone and confused. It’s five am, and she thought she head Zara cry hours ago, but it’s all quiet now and Root is still not in bed. She shuffles into the hallway, and finds the lights on in the study, but no one is there.

 

“Root?” she tries, but her voice is still weak from sleep.

 

She follows the light from downstairs. When she reaches the bottom of the stairs, she hears soft chatter coming from the kitchen. She stops to listen at the glass doors.

 

Zara is babbling contently while Root is holding some sort of nerd monologue. Shaw opens the door and finds Root sitting at the dinner table with her back turned towards her, typing away on her laptop. Zara is in her lap, and her little arms are reaching for the keyboard too. Neither of them gives off a sign that they hear Shaw come in, and Root keeps talking about some algorithm that needs to be fixed, or broken, or something only the machine could decipher from her tech talk.

 

Shaw lays her hand on Root’s shoulder softly, careful not to startle her. But Root just takes her hand off the laptop and lays it over Shaw’s, and judging from the blinking light by the laptop’s webcam, Big Sister was loyally watching her back anyway.

 

“What are you guys doing?” Shaw says, slipping her hand along Root’s chest and resting her chin on the top of Root’s head.

 

“Dealing with the Boston aftermath,” Root mumbles. “I just need to break this code enough to make it look like it broke itself.” She launches into a detailed explanation that would be tough on Shaw’s brain even if it wasn’t five am.

 

Shaw lifts her head off Root’s and leans down to kiss her jawline. Zara looks up and smiles as she tries to put her hands on Shaw’s face, but her arms aren’t long enough, so she settles on squeezing the air beside her head instead. Shaw puts her finger in one of them and lets her squeeze that, and try to put it into her mouth.

 

“And you have to do that now?” Shaw hums into Root’s ear when Root finally leaves room for interruption in her story.

 

“Well I was gonna do it tomorrow, but then Zara woke up and refused to let me get back to sleep, so I figured I might as well do it now.”

 

“She any help?”

 

“She tries to be.” Right in that moment, Zara reaches her free hand back to the laptop. It lands on the mousepad, selecting a bunch of code, but Root is prepared and swats the hand away gently before any real damage is done. Zara lets out a little squeal at the interaction.

 

Shaw hangs around on Root’s shoulders for a bit, tangling her fingers in Zara’s quickly growing curls and waiting for Root to announce that she’s done, or tired, or has found any reason to stop doing what she’s doing. Of course that doesn’t happen, and Shaw loses her patience.

 

“Rooooot,” she whines when she almost falls asleep right there. “Please come back to bed.”

 

“You know I love it when you beg,” Root says. She grins but she doesn’t look up, or stop typing.

 

Zara puts both of her hands on the edge of the laptop and starts slamming them up and down, making a loud whiney sound.

 

“Alright, alright,” Root says, taking the kid’s hands in her own. She saves her work and slams the laptop shut. She kisses Zara’s head. “But you’re coming with us.”

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

They both take an hour off from work to take Zara to her doctor’s appointment the next week. There’s nothing wrong with her, but they figure she’s due for a checkup since the last one. They slip back into the roles of the caseworker and the foster parent, and since the baby is happy and healthy, the doctor doesn’t question it any further.

 

Shaw has to do most of the talking, since Root isn’t supposed to know as much as her, and she tells the doctor about the almost nightly outbursts. The doctor asks a few questions about Zara’s sleeping schedule, her eating habits and her reactions to physical affection. She nods, noting that all of that seems okay. She suggests that it might be nightmares, likely replaying experiences from before she was rescued, but since the kid shows no symptoms of serious trauma, the doctor advices Shaw to keep doing what she already does and give it a few more weeks to see if it passes.

 

Other than that, Zara is good to go. She happily claps her hands when Shaw picks her up. She chats in gibberish all the way back to the car, and then falls asleep in her car seat. Root drops Shaw off at the office and drives home, spending the rest of the afternoon trying to make Zara aware of Dora the Explorer, much to her own irritation, and working on the code for the surveillance system at the office.

 

She makes pasta with basil and chicken for dinner and a fresh vegetable and potato blend for Zara, which she swallows down with more eagerness than Root has ever seen even Shaw eat with. She either really loves zucchini, or she was just very hungry.

 

Shaw gets home, and they eat the pasta at the counter with a glass of wine and beer respectively, because it’s Friday and that’s a good enough excuse. Zara lies on her blanket on the floor between the kitchen and the living room area. She’s surrounded by dogs and toys, but she’s busier testing out all the sounds her she can make with her lips than playing with anything.

 

“Good pasta,” Shaw says. She grunts in satisfaction to verify her statement.

 

“Thanks.” Root smiles over at her.

 

They discuss the minor details about the part of the day they spent apart as they eat.

 

“So,” Shaw starts, when they’ve both finished their last bite. “I guess we need to talk.” Her eyes are calm and pointed on Zara.

 

Root nods. They’ve been dancing around this conversation for too long, and they both know it’s getting ridiculous now. They should have had it the moment they decided to take the child home. But every time Root so much as thinks about this, it makes her nervous and she honestly doesn’t know what to say.

 

“Have you ever thought about kids?” Shaw asks. She pricks at the label of her beer bottle with her fork.

 

“Well of course not,” Root sighs. “Then again I also never thought about owning a house and sharing it with my long term partner. Or running a company designed to help people out of trouble. Or dogs. Or living a stable, fairly safe life in general.”

 

Shaw huffs a laugh. “When did we turn into _those_ people?”

 

“No idea.” They hadn’t exactly planned any of this. Every move they made to get here just felt like a logical next step at the time. Neither of them ever stopped to reflect on their decisions. But the dogs, the house and the company, those were pretty safe bets, where if something went wrong, no one else would be harmed but them. It’s a whole different story now that another human life is involved.

 

“I just…” Root starts. She stares at her plate, looking for a way to put her thoughts into words. “I never thought about it until last month. I never expected I would ever get to this point where I even wanted to have a child near me. And I’ve… lived with that in mind, you know. That I would never have to account for anyone else. I’ve done so many bad, selfish things because it was never gonna affect anyone but me. But then now there’s you, and…” She sighs again. She doesn’t like talking about this. They’ve had a similar conversation before, the only time she ever told Shaw that she deserved better than a selfish, homicidal sadist for a partner, but Shaw had cut her off at that. She told her that even if she was nothing but those three things, Shaw could make that choice for herself just fine. Root doesn’t want to spiral back to that right now, so she just stops talking and waits for Shaw to steer the conversation back to the point.

 

“Well,” Shaw says. She’s making that face she does when she’s about to pick her words carefully. “I think it’s safe to say that’s in the past now.”

 

“I’ve killed people, Shaw,” Root whispers, in case the baby understands or remembers it. She tries and fails to sound like it doesn’t bother her.

 

“So have I,” Shaw says with her normal volume.

 

“It’s different. You’ve only killed to save people. Everything you’ve ever done was to save people. You’re the most well-intentioned person I’ve ever met.”

 

Shaw huffs a laugh and looks away. You’d think with Root praising her face and ass every minute of the day she’d have learned how to take a compliment by now, but she still gets all awkward when Root shows admiration for her personality.

 

“Don’t we balance each other out that way then?” she says, smiling smugly around the rim of her beer bottle. “I’m not saying it’ll be perfect all the time. Just… from a hypothetical viewpoint, we… wouldn’t suck that much at this.”

 

“Your hypothesis is lying on our living room floor,” Root comments dryly.

 

“That’s my point. We both know that kid isn’t going anywhere at this point. It’s not just about us anymore. You heard what the doctor said about those nightmares, God knows what’ll happen to her if her new parents leave her behind too.”

 

Root swallows hard and bites her lip. Shaw just referred to her and herself as ‘parents’ and it’s making her stomach crawl. She knew it was coming from a mile away, yet she can’t remember the last time she felt so uncomfortable.

 

“Look,” Shaw starts. She’s staring at her empty plate, making it easy for Root to avoid eye contact. “This isn’t how I thought we’d end up either. But I think you know the machine gave us her number for a reason.”

 

“I’ve been afraid to ask her,” Root admits. “But I figured as much.”

 

She would have expected Shaw to be a bit angrier about this. The machine meddling in their personal business always hits a special nerve with Shaw. But she doesn’t seem angry at all.

 

Root however, feels a low pull in her chest at the thought of the machine making this choice for her, when they never so much as touched the topic of family, let alone starting one of her own. They talked about her and Shaw’s relationship, and the machine must have compared them to other people with similar lives, and decided that something was missing.

 

But on the other hand, the machine never told them what to do after they found the baby. She never told them anything but an address, and everything that happened from that point on, had been on Root and Shaw alone. They could have dropped her off at an orphanage immediately, but instead they chose to take her home with them. All the machine did was give them a nudge.

 

“Root.” Shaw touches her arm, just under her elbow. “Talk to me.”

 

“What am I supposed to say, Shaw? We’re already doing this, there’s nothing I can say to change that.”

 

“Just tell me every doubt you have now. It hasn’t been set in stone yet.”

 

“I don’t know how to do this. My childhood wasn’t ideal and I just don’t know how this is supposed to go. I don’t know any kids and I’ve never had an example of decent parenting.” Shaw is the only person Root has ever opened up to about her childhood, but she still doesn’t like talking about it. She likes to keep the past in the past and not look back on it. She remembers the vulnerability of the girl she was before she became Root all too well and she hates going back to that place.

 

“You were doing just fine before you started overthinking it just now. You’re not your mother, Root,” Shaw says. “And you’re not alone.”

 

Root blinks away some tears as she thinks about that last part. Maybe her mother couldn’t be what she needed because she didn’t have any help. Not even the shitty boyfriends she brought home from time to time would help her out, and in all fairness, Root wouldn’t have let them.

 

There’s something else she has been thinking about for a while. She doesn’t wanna tell Shaw at all, because she knows it’s stupid and it doesn’t make sense. But Shaw wants to hear everything that’s on her mind, and maybe all she needs is to hear Shaw agree that it’s bullshit.

 

“My mother used to say gay people raising kids was the most vile form of child abuse.”

 

Shaw looks up at that, suddenly done avoiding eye contact. “That’s real rich coming from a woman who drank herself to hell every day to have her daughter clean up the mess she left behind.”

 

“I know.” Root looks down at Zara, who has rolled herself onto her stomach and is chewing one of her rubber booklets. “But… I can’t help but think, what if we screw her up?”

 

“Root, come on, you know that’s bullshit.”

 

“I know! I know, and I love when other gay couples have kids! One happy family closer to overthrowing the heteronormative patriarchy! But you asked what was on my mind and this is part of it, okay?”

 

“Yeah, it’s okay.” Shaw rests her head on her hand. She waits for a moment, looking for the right words. “You didn’t have a dad growing up. Neither did I for the latter part.”

 

“Yeah and look how we turned out. No offense.”

 

“None taken. Although, in the end we turned out pretty great.” Shaw pokes Root in the stomach, making her smile. “Look, from what I’ve learned, parenting is a two man job. Or two women job in this case. Point is, it doesn’t really matter. It’s a tough job, and it’s a lot easier when two people carry the weight together. It doesn’t matter what gender said people are.”

 

Root looks over at her with soft eyes. Shaw has this sweet, shy look in her eyes when she’s being sincere, and Root is so weak for it. Even if she had been talking nonsense, her voice would have been soothing enough to calm Root’s nerves. But it feels like Shaw knows what she’s talking about. She always speaks of her childhood and her parents highly, with a little gleam in her eyes and respect in her voice. And she seems to be certain of this, of Zara. So maybe they can balance each other out. After all, isn’t that what they’ve been doing for the past five years?

 

“And I’ll be the one to take her to football games and play catch with her in the park if that’s what you’re worried about,” Shaw adds.

 

Root smiles. Suddenly she can almost picture it.

 

She looks down at the little girl on the floor. Zara has abandoned her book in favor of chewing a stuffed dinosaur toy while babbling softly to it. Three months ago, Root never would have expected to be thinking about this, but out of these past month and a half with Zara, the most unexpected part has been that she never once thought this baby was gross or annoying, and she actually started to care about her. So far, taking care of a baby had brought nothing but cozy and warm feelings in Root’s chest. Zara has put things in a different light, and given her and Shaw a whole new sense of purpose.

 

“We’re gonna have to change some things,” Root says.

 

“Yep,” Shaw agrees. Root glances at her to see that her eyes are trained on the baby too.

 

“We should move my study to the basement. Next to the gun room.”

 

“The gun room’s gotta go.”

 

“What? No. It just needs a better lock, is all.”

 

“Root.”

 

“…Fine.”

 

They bicker some more about safety measures in the house, and then Shaw points out that they have to ensure their own safety at work too. No more dangerous missions, no more spontaneous ambushes without backup, no more fist fights or gun battles that could lead to serious injury. Root sighs and notes that’s gonna take some getting used to. Shaw agrees and suggests maybe they can take turns getting beat up so at least there’s always one of them to keep things normal around the house.

 

After a while, Zara gets bored of lying on the ground and they take her with them to the couch to discuss things further.

 

“We need Zoe to take care of some legal stuff.”

 

“We need to get her a toy that resembles Rose too.”

 

“Oh god. She’s gonna have to go to school one day.”

 

“We should paint the study. Turn it into a real nursery.”

 

“I have to call my mom.”

 

Root looks up at that, holding onto Zara’s hand. She swallows past something in her throat.

 

“We’re gonna be a family.”

 

Shaw looks from Zara to Root and nods with her lips pursed into the cutest smile.

 

“We sort of were before,” she says, nodding her head to the dogs on the floor. Bear perks his ears and looks up. Rose sighs in her sleep, her nose wriggled into the fur of Bear’s neck.

 

“From proud dog moms to…” Root starts, and then frowns. “Oh god.”

 

“Yep. That’s weird.”

 

Zara lets out a high pitched wail as she raises Root’s hand to her mouth. There doesn’t seem to be a certain message or emotion attached to the sound, and she contently opens her mouth for Root’s fingers.

 

“Oh no,” Root says, pulling them back. “Here.” She reaches forward to where the pacifier is lying on the coffee table. “Suck on this.”

 

Zara is happy enough with the replacement to lean against Root’s side and sigh softly. Root puts her arm around her and slips her hand under Zara’s legs to pull her closer. She’s been awake for a pretty long time, Root realizes. She looks at Zara’s little face, adoring the way she’s suckling on the pacifier.

 

“I think we’ll be fine,” Shaw says, watching the two from the other end of the couch.

 

Root smiles at her and lifts up her hand towards Shaw. She beckons her to come closer. Shaw grins and scoots over. She doesn’t waste any time before getting her lips on Root’s. She holds Root’s neck to hold her close, but she pulls back when Zara lets out a little noise. Root worries they might have squished her, but instead, she wriggles into the narrow space between them and closes her eyes.

 

They both watch her. Shaw lays a hand on top of her head softly and strokes through her curls with her thumb. Root looks at the smile on Shaw’s face and the tenderness in her eyes. She kisses her on the cheek and stays there until Shaw turns her face and kisses her back.

 

Root sighs into it with a smile.

 

They will be fine.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks [Em](http://archiveofourown.org/users/youmeandem/pseuds/youmeandem) xx
> 
> Pls comment to let me know how you feel. I will love you forever

**Author's Note:**

> Titled after Uneven Odds by Sleeping At Last
> 
> Plsss comment or @ me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/samemeshaw) or both


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